Smoke and Mirrors
by literarypun
Summary: A son of Artemis and a daughter of Thanatos team up with Annabeth Chase to investigate why the mist is disappearing. When a devastating secret is discovered. a difficult decision must be made. Post BoO.
1. I Ash

It was dark. So dark. Not because it was evening, but because a blanket of sickly green smoke covered the forest as the trees were consumed in Greek fire. Ash watched strangely detached as draiads futilely tried to preserve their life forces. Yet, this was not the strangest part of the ethereal scene. The strangest part, the part that tugged at a piece of Ash he had almost forgotten, was the firefighters. A hoard of mortal firefighters, clad in fireproof suits and gaudy gas masks, were also frantically trying to extinguish the eternal flames alongside the wood nymphs. Every being in the horrific scene let out guttural screams as the once regal oaks transformed into withered black memorials, and their lungs filled with poisonous gas. Amid the chaos a young woman knelt. A mane of unruly black curls framed an elegant face, faceted by high cheekbones, full lips, and wonderfully dark skin. The woman looked up with heavy-lidded eyes and connected with Ash's. A look of sadness and anguish passed over her abyssal eyes as she whispered, "I can't stop them," As soon as she uttered the words, Ash was flooded with sensation. He smelled the sweetness of the summer air defiled with the odor of Greek fire burning oak, the screams of the doomed nature spirits. What he felt most was the magical smoke burning his eyes, skin and lungs. As the menacing green flame lapped at his jeans and robbed him of consciousness, the woman said, "But I'd like to see _you_ try."

Ash woke with a start. He'd fallen asleep under the willow tree again. The dreams had become more frequent, each with a different scenario of humans and creatures in a nightmarish ordeal. The most alarming thought was the humans' total immunity from the mist, the supernatural fog that hid the magical world from the mortal one. _It was almost as if there was no mist at all,_ Ash thought to himself. Each dream always ended with the woman with dark eyes, beckoning him to try to stop some unnamed force. Ash knew what he had to do. For months he'd teased at the idea of leaving _Delos,_ the island he had come to call home. He recalled his last meeting with the Lady of the island, his patron:

He stood in her temple, surrounded by six ivory columns choked in ivy. Honeysuckle draped from the crumbling ceilings and littered the floor with white petals. The aroma from the flowers filled the air pleasantly. Animals large and small slumbered on the plush moss that covered the floor, or lapped at the water that bubbled up from the aquifer deep within the ground. He carefully stepped around the sleeping fauna, maneuvered crystal puddles of water and silently regarded his patron. She had a certain regality about her; dark hair that fell just past her shoulders and skin that remained fair despite the ever-present sun on the island. Her youthful appearance was only challenged by her expression; softened by motherhood, but wizened by loss. She sat comfortably on a pedestal that occasionally held a statue of her likeness. She turned to face Ash.

Ash wasted no time, "My Lady, I think… I need to leave the island _._ Soon." The lady of the island paused for a moment, and then replied, "I knew, from the moment I brought you here, that you would not stay forever…though I always hoped you would." She continued, "Why do you want to leave?" Ash stammered (albeit taken aback by her sentiment), "The dreams - they mean something, I know it. I need to find out what they mean, because something is coming." The Lady regarded Ash, and answered intensely, "Ash, once you leave this island, I can no longer protect you and you are no longer in service to me." Ash considered the weight of her words. Ever since his birth, it seemed as if everything was after him. He was constantly attacked and threatened by monsters, gods and goddesses alike. He thought of it as the universe trying to right a monumental wrong, Ash's parentage. The Lady had rescued him from an entire life of running and fighting-only to die a bastard-by taking him to _Delos._ The Lady was the only one who knew who he really was, and seemingly the only one on his side. Ash swallowed hard and replied, "I understand." The Lady gave Ash a melancholy look and added, "And to leave, you must forget."

Since that conversation, Ash committed himself to remembering. He walked his hunting paths over and over again, memorizing every rock and tree he encountered. He closed his eyes and thought of the shape of his bow, how it felt in his hands—an extension of his own body. He looked at his reflection in Lake _Ozeros_ , the centerpiece of _Delos_ , and noticed how his brow furrowed, the sharpness of his jaw, the way his dark curls fell in his pale yellow eyes. He tried to remember his life before _Delos_ —a scrap of blue ribbon, the smell of wet asphalt and damp leaves, biting into a fresh _oreja._ He repeated his name over and over again: Ash, Ash, Ash _._

When he returned to the temple again, she was waiting there for him. The Lady solemnly regarded him, and reiterated, "To leave, you must forget."

And so he did.


	2. II Hope

Hope was exhausted. She stepped away from the scrying bowl perched on an old wooden stool that sat in the middle of the kitschy Manhattan loft, and yawned dramatically. It was getting harder and harder to project herself into the hero's dreams. As the mist—her source of power—slowly dissipated, it had become nearly impossible. Even as a daughter of Thanatos who was particularly gifted in magic, she knew she that wouldn't be able to pull it off again without serious consequences. Rachel Dare, the owner of the loft turned-art-studio, was sprawled across the ratty couch and idly doodled on her jeans with a black magic marker.

"He'll come, don't worry," she said absentmindedly. Hope clicked her tongue and sharply said to the Oracle of Delphi,

"You seem rather relaxed, given the situation."

It had been less than a month since Hope had witnessed Rachel's prophesy. She could never forget the words spoken in that grating voice belonging to the Oracle alone, not the girl she knew as Rachel Dare:

 ** _Light and Dark, Dark and Light_**

 ** _Few will know the hunter's plight_**

 ** _No child of Rome nor child Greece_**

 ** _Can wake the god who was once deceased_**

 ** _To keep the Light, all that is Good_**

 ** _A choice must be made_**

 ** _Water or blood_**

Hope shivered. Rachel's eerie premonitions, coupled with the almost _palpable_ thinning of the mist of a made both psychics agree to take it upon themselves to put a stop to it _before_ Camp Half-Blood got involved. Rachel ceased doodling and said with an amused glance,

"You're adorable when you're pissed."

Hope rolled her eyes and poured the dark liquid from the scrying bowl down the antique porcelain sink that sat in the back corner of the loft. She watched the liquid swirl down the drain, and was tempted to ask Rachel what would happen to them if the mist were to completely disappear. Her brow creased when she thought of how the question upset her friend, and how Rachel always sadly replied, 'It doesn't work that way.' Hope asked aloud, her voice tinged with exhaustion,

"What should we do now?"

Rachel had begun to doodle again and paused to behold her art—an intricate design of a waning crescent. Not sensing the desperation in Hope's voice, Rachel replied easily,

"He's a son of Artemis, we'll find him with our eyes closed."


	3. III Ash

Ash awoke in an office, leaning against a bookshelf. He rubbed his neck and groggily glanced toward a window whose shingles idly swung in the wind. Ash shuffled over to the open window and looked out to see a dramatically sloping landscape. He noticed the sun slowly sinking behind the Victorian buildings that lined the streets. Guys in backwards hats and pastel shorts played Frisbee on a green lawn next door, and girls lounged under eucalyptus trees in sundresses and felt hats . _San Francisco, probably a university. But why here?_ he thought.

He observed his surroundings once again. The office was large, but filled with so much clutter that it appeared to be the size of a supply closet. Historical weapons, a surprising number of them Greek, littered the floors and covered the walls. He turned around and looked at the mismatched spires of books and began to put them in the nearly empty shelves distractedly. He picked up a tattered copy of _A Microanalysis of Antebellum Greek Architecture_ when he heard a rustle towards the door. Ash turned to face a man standing in the threshold. He was middle aged with blonde hair speckled with gray and a face creased with laugh lines. However, he looked far from laughing now. "Who are you?" he asked. Ash knew he had to think quickly, and searched his mind for a convincing story. "I'm your new intern," he replied, "I was just getting started on some of the organizing you wanted done."He breathed a sigh of relief when the man's suspicious expression changed from suspicion to a one of approval. "Alright then," the man remarked, "Um, what was your name again?" "Ash. Just Ash." he answered. The man smirked, "Okay, 'Just Ash', just…finish up and… you should be good for today." Ash nodded as the man took as cursory glance around his office, looking as if he'd forgotten why he returned, and left. He was alone again. He walked over to a desk hidden under a mountain of papers and managed to read the name tag that was perched on top of a half-eaten bagel: _Professor Frederick Chase_. As he turned to face the bookshelf his eye caught a flash of gold coming from a misshapen clay bowl placed on top a file cabinet. The bowl contained five golden _drachma..._ He pocketed the change and decided to leave the office. The overabundance of Greek relics and presence of _drachma_ could be a coincidence, but Puck decided not to try his chances and stick around.

He exited quickly and immediately barreled into a mass of blonde curls. "Oh sorry-", Ash started, but he was immediately cut off by the young woman with stormy gray eyes and a murderous expression. "What were you doing in my d—my father's office?" she asked with an accusatory glance. He hoped he could work his magic again; he put on his most convincing grin, and stated, "I'm Ash, Professor Chase's intern. I was just finishing up," The young woman didn't look convinced, but then shrugged and asked, "Do you know where he is?" Ash answered, "He left a while ago." She cursed under her breath and then mumbled, "Of course he forgot. He always does." She stared at him for a moment, and shrugged again, "Well, forget it!" The woman held out her hand and laughed, "I'm Annabeth Chase, wanna get a bite to eat?"

* * *

Annabeth Chase and Ash sat in the cracked pleather booth at the back of Waffle Hut, a local restaurant surprisingly busy for a Tuesday night. Annabeth nibbled on French toast while Ash wolfed down a "Big Lenny's Special", an entrée that consisted of every meat on the menu, coupled with two tall stacks of waffles drenched in syrup. They talked in between bites; Annabeth asked rather mundane questions, and Ash maneuvered them easily, hoping that she wouldn't ask any that he couldn't answer.

Ash was munching on his fourth sausage link when Annabeth set down her fork and let out an exasperated sigh. "Listen," she said, "I know you're not my father's intern from—what was it? Topeka? I know that you stole _drachma_ from his office." Ash opened his mouth to reply, but Annabeth continued, "And I know that you're not mortal, at least not completely." Ash froze before regaining his composure and replying with practiced nonchalance, "You forgot that I like long walks on the beach, and am a _total_ Pisces." Annabeth wasn't amused. She ordered, "Ash _,_ Tell me the truth." He smirked and retorted, "You know just about as much as I do." A look of annoyance passed over Annabeth's stormy eyes, and she was about to send a barrage of poisonous words in Ash's direction when their conversation was interrupted by the boisterous laughter coming from the booth in front of them. She whipped around to glare at the group of four girls laughing way too loud for the joke to be funny. Annabeth's cold glare was met by a girl with fiery red hair and catlike green eyes, presumably their leader. She mockingly smiled at Annabeth and said through bubblegum glossed lips, "Tell your boyfriend to come hang with us when he's done dating a burlap sack." Annabeth clenched her jaw, clearly frustrated with her inability to come up with snarky comeback. The red-haired girl cracked a smile, ready to claim her victory over the Annabeth when Ash said rather forcefully, "Annabeth. We should leave." He flicked his hand and the waitress—who had been gawking at him from behind the serving counter—hurriedly gave him the check and flashed her most winning smile. Annabeth scoffed, and replied, (with more aggression that was warranted), "Fine." She reached in her pocket and slapped a wad of crumpled dollar bills on the table and stalked toward the door. Ash followed, suspicious of the sulfurous smell emanating from the girls' booth.

Annabeth and Ash reached the door, but were beaten there by the group of girls, who had hurriedly grabbed their things and scuttled towards the door to block the exit. The red-haired girl stepped forward and said to Annabeth and Ash while glibly staring in a rhinestone compact and reapplying her lip-gloss , "Oh, you didn't think we'd let you _demigods_ escape that easily." She snapped her compact mirror shut and flicked her eyes –which had begun to glow red—between the two demigods, lingering on Ash. Her skin faded into a nearly translucent white and her fiery red hair transformed into a violent conflagration. Her three other lackeys' appearances had begun to change as well, and soon Ash realized that they sported mismatched cloven hooves and mechanical legs instead of the pink flip-flops he'd thought they wore. " _Empousai,"_ Annabeth whispered. Ash immediately reached to the nearest table and snatched a steak knife from a man extremely devoted to his corned beef hash and rammed it into the eye of the leading empousa before she'd even put her lip-gloss away. She let out an inhuman shriek as the knife sunk into her flesh. The steak knife, unfortunately, wasn't made of celestial bronze and did nothing to destroy the monster, but _had_ successfully succeeded in annoying her. She pulled the knife out of her eye grudgingly and screeched, "TOTALLY UNCOOL!" Meanwhile, Annabeth lunged at the empousa that flanked the leader's left and almost effortlessly slashed the monster into dust with her dagger, all while avoiding fiery hair and razor-sharp claws. Ash cursed under his breath, and wondered why he hadn't taken a weapon from Professor Chase's vast collection. Suddenly the empousa who he'd stabbed with the steak knife tackled Ash to the ground and bared her fangs down on his throat. He could feel the heat of her breath on his neck and the burning poison as it dripped from her gaping mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the one of the empousai had subdued Annabeth, and her dagger had slid out of reach. The other wreaked havoc on the restaurant, slashing at horrified customers and tossing sulfurous balls of fire.

Ash could feel them losing the battle, and his chest tightened. In a fit of panic, he felt a familiar sensation flow through him. He could feel the natural energy that flowed through the earth, ran in roots and pumped through the very hearts of the frightened mortals. In a brilliant beam of light Ash channeled the powerful energy through his own body and expelled it through his hands. The beam of light dissolved the empousa that straddled him instantly, and with a wave of his hand disintegrated the other that was drooling over Annabeth's jugular. He watched last empousa disappear in a flash of fire upon seeing its two remaining comrades defeated by the seemingly divine light.

Ash's ears were ringing and dark spots lingered at the edge of his vision; it had been a long time since he'd used this unique power, and he had forgotten how much it drained him. He stumbled around the room, listening to the muffled sounds of sirens and the hysterical crying of the waitress, who now lay crumpled on the floor in a trembling heap. In a daze, Ash dreamily followed Annabeth as she pulled him toward the back exit into an alley. As the door closed behind them, he could have sworn he saw the man he took the knife from holding a cheap camera phone, his hand shaking and eyes wide with disbelief.


	4. IV Ash

Annabeth pulled Ash behind a dumpster and whispered incredulously,

"How long have you been able to do that?"

Ash felt a shard of his fractured memory come into sharp focus:

 _He sat, precariously perched in a tree watching the mansion burn and the demigods scramble from the collapsing structure. His fingers still hummed with the strange, yet dangerous power he held. 'It would be easier this way,' he thought, 'to smoke them out and pick them off like sheep.' He closed eyes, inhaling the intoxicating scent of burning cedar, then went back to watching them run. 'As if they were ever going to get away', he said to himself. He raised his bow, and in three swift motions, took them down. It was better this way. Three less half-bloods to fight against the worthy cause of Kronos._

His nerves buzzed with the chaotic energy that still made him anxious. _Breathe_ , a soothing voice cut through his conscious. _You're in control now._ Ash exhaled sharply."Always." Annabeth gave him a peculiar look, then nodded. "We have to move, I know of a place we can go." They slipped away from the restaurant, careful to remain hidden in the shadows and unseen by the police officers and news vans beginning to swarm around the scene. Ash was unfamiliar with San Francisco, so he followed Annabeth as she navigated through the labyrinthine streets, not even bothering to look back to check if he had kept up.

It felt like they'd been walking for hours when Annabeth finally stopped. They stood facing the hills overlooking the highway. Even at night, the hills took on a rich shade of dark green, only illuminated by the lights of the secret villas nestled in their crevices. The scene was ethereal, as if San Francisco sat among piles of twinkling emerald jewels. Ash was snapped back into reality when he realized that Annabeth had already started towards two kids in purple-plumed helmets guarding a door embedded into the base of a hill. The kids were young—only twelve or thirteen—and wore ill-fitting Roman battle gear. The boy standing on the left was stocky, with tufts of unruly blonde hair that sprouted out his helmet like weeds. The other was a mousy girl with large, innocent brown eyes who wore a gaudy breastplate that no doubt contributed to her slouch. As Annabeth approached, they straightened and crossed their spears in front of the door. The stocky boy puffed out his chest and boomed, "STATE YOUR BUSINESS." Annabeth replied, "Annabeth Chase of Camp Half-Blood…who would really appreciate it if you used your inside-voice." A flash of recognition passed over each demigods face at the mention of her name. They both stood speechless, and struggled to regain their composure. Finally the stocky boy spoke, his voice cracking a little, "Annabeth Chase!" the girl interjected, looking over Annabeth's right shoulder, "and is that Percy Jackson?" An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Ash glanced over to Annabeth, who had stiffened, and wondered what made her so uncomfortable at the mention of this guy Percy. He cleared his throat, and Annabeth quickly answered, "No…Annabeth Chase, and guest."

Ash and Annabeth were allowed entrance, and made their way to the end of the tunnel, which opened up to New Rome—a city inhabited by demigods and magical beings that was protected by Camp Jupiter, the place Annabeth described as "The Roman equivalent of Camp Half-Blood." They finally reached the end of the tunnel, and faced New Rome. It was breathtaking. The city was nestled in a valley which only parted to give way to the small river that snaked in and around the picturesque area, finally flowing into a lake that rested at the center. Something tugged at Ash's heart when he saw the crystalline lake; it reminded him of something he'd seen before, or perhaps something he had lost. He set the thought aside and continued to take in the spectacular sight. Cyprus trees decorated the landscape and streetlamps lined the city, lighting the white marbled, Spanish-roofed homes and shops. Neatly arranged barracks sat outside the city, adjacent to what he assumed was a praetor's house. The sky took on a lavender hue that hinted at dawn. He was just beginning to hear New Rome stir; the birds chirped in a steady cadence, acting as harbingers of daybreak. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Annabeth said. She'd been steadily watching him. He only nodded, and they began to walk towards Camp Jupiter.

When the exhausted demigods reached the praetor's house,a statuesque teenager, whom Ash assumed to be the praetor of Camp Jupiter, was there waiting for them. She stood in the middle of the foyer, already dressed in her flowing purple robes. Two mechanical dogs , one gold and the other silver flanked her left and right. Her long black hair was swept carelessly over her shoulder, but her onyx eyes focused on them intently. "Annabeth," she regarded warmly, "I'm so glad you visited." She walked over to Ash and asked, "And who might you be; Do not lie, Argentum and Aurum will know if you do." He glanced at her two dogs, which had begun to growl at Ash suspiciously. he replied, surprised by her sudden coldness, "Ash, just Ash " She nodded. "I am Reyna. I need to know your intentions, 'Just Ash.'" He groaned over her attempt at humor. "I appeared in an office. I don't know where I came from, only that the mist is damaged, disappearing actually." Annabeth glanced at Puck, looking slightly irritated. "I found him snooping around my dad's went to a restaurant and there was… an incident. We need a place to lay low for a bit, and then we'll be out of your hair." Before she could reply, Annabeth added, "He's powerful. I think we could have already attracted a lot of unwanted attention." The praetor stared at the two half-bloods for a moment, and finally said, " You can stay in the praetor's house as my guests." She was looking directly at Ash when she said, "But do not outstay your welcome." He and Annabeth made their way over to the vacant room that occasionally housed a second praetor . Without a word, Ash plopped down on the recliner that sat in the corner, and Annabeth took the bed. He relaxed his aching muscles and fell into a peaceful slumber as the sun rose over Camp Jupiter.

* * *

Ash awoke to the sound of muffled chatter outside of the small bedroom. He stood and walked over to the window, noticing how high the sun was in the sky. It was probably close to noon. He opened the door to see Annabeth and Reyna talking comfortably on the plush couch that sat in the middle of the foyer. Aurum and Argentum rested at Reyna's feet and raised their heads when he entered the room, their ruby eyes twinkling with curiosity. Annabeth turned to Ash and said, "Great, you're awake. We need to talk." She rose from the couch, waved goodbye to Reyna and started toward the door. He followed.

Annabeth and Ash ventured through the camp and eventually came to stop at the Pomerian line just outside of New Rome. Annabeth sat down in the grass and leaned back to rest on her elbows. Ash was surprised; it was the most relaxed he had ever seen Annabeth. Her gray eyes flicked to where Ash stood and she asked, "Well, aren't you going to sit down?" He sat down, resting on his elbows like Annabeth, and let out a deep sigh. They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the vibrant city and distant yells of the platoon leaders from Camp Jupiter. Ash summed up Annabeth's unusually laid-back behavior as a ploy to get him to let his guard down. His mouth broke into a slight smile, almost laughing at Annabeth's unrelenting tact . Finally, Annabeth spoke. "Can you tell me about your life before you knew?" Ash knew she was referring to his life before he discovered he was a demigod—before he was forced to run. He furrowed his brow—since he'd appeared in California, he hadn't given much thought to his past, it made his head hurt. He preferred to focus on the present, to keep on moving. Now he was being asked to remember, and suddenly, he wanted , there was a part of him that _wanted_ someone to know him; it tugged at his heart—he was haunted by a pervasive confusion and fear of being forgotten. Ash closed his eyes, thinking of his childhood. Wet asphalt, a sliver of blue ribbon, and the flakiness of pastries covered in powdered sugar… a feeling of déjà vu washed over him. He was only given a flash of his fondest experiences before he was flooded with the bad ones. He remembered growing up an orphan, the horrible loneliness and fear he felt over powers he couldn't understand— not even knowing what he _was._ Like an insect, the memory of his fear transforming into seething anger that eventually caused him to be manipulated so easily by Kronos. Ash opened his eyes and replied, not looking at Annabeth: "I never knew either of my parents. Divine or mortal. I was lost, angry, and alone—and I got into a lot of trouble because of that." He couldn't even begin to explain _how_ he'd come to fight for the Titan army, and truthfully, he couldn't really remember. The only memories that had been given to him served as a constant reminder of the mistakes he'd made and obligation to make up for them. _For Selena,_ rang a voice. He felt an ache in his chest, an echo of the heartache wrought by her. _Selena,_ he mouthed to himself. Who was she, and why had he forgotten her? Her name, once foreign and unknown, now slipped off of his tongue as if that was the only word he could speak.

Ash clenched his jaw and blinked, trying to hide how upset he was. He looked up to see that Annabeth had turned to face him. She quietly stated, "And the only thing you know for sure is that the mist is disappearing." Ash simply nodded, and they slipped into silence again. After a moment, Ash awkwardly laughed, "Alright Chase, enough about me, what about you?" Annabeth told Puck about Camp Half-Blood: she spoke of Chiron, capture the flag, nights around the bonfire. She described the way the aroma of strawberries wafted through the air in the summertime, the dinners spent with brothers and sisters in the dining pavilion, and the exact moment in which she was claimed by her mother, Athena. She even explained the significance of each of the beads that was strung on the leather string around her neck. Annabeth stopped talking to see that Ash's smile had returned, and his golden eyes shined with warmth. Annabeth sensed his lightened mood and asked teasingly, "What about you mystery boy, how come you never went to camp? I'm sensing…son of Aphrodite!" Ash laughed deeply and said, "Is that your way of saying I'm attractive, Chase?" He winked and contested, "Sometimes, knowledge is the greatest burden." He brushed the single strand of gray hair that hung in her face behind her ear. Annabeth flushed deeply, then regained her usual poise and replied glibly, "I'm a daughter of Athena, if anything, you're practically begging me to figure it out." Their conversation was cut short by the mousy girl they'd encountered earlier running towards them. She stopped in front of them, pausing to catch her breath, before uttering, "It's Reyna. She wants you both in the praetor's house. Now" Ash and Annabath shared a worried look before hurrying back to Camp Jupiter.

* * *

They arrived in the praetor's house to hear a television blaring towards the back office. Annabeth and Ash carefully approached the room, observing Reyna sitting behind a large desk, intently focusing on the flat screen mounted on the wall. She clutched a fat manila folder in her hands. Aurum and Argentum paced the room nervously, sensing their master's distress. Without turning to look, Reyna said bluntly, "Both of you look at what I am watching." Ash's expression quickly turned from suspicion to utter shock as he watched the images flash across the television screen. It was he and Annabeth, in the restaurant, caught fighting the empousai on camera. The person who took the footage had hid in a booth, so most of the images were partially obscured, all except one. The short video clip ended with a clear shot Ash shooting the white-hot light from his hands, effectively destroying the monsters. Annabeth shrugged and remarked, "Mortals will see what they want to believe." Ash swallowed hard and choked out, "Look at the headline." Annabeth mouthed: **"Terrorist Act or Apocalyptic Sign: Witnesses Argue the Latter!"** Reyna handed the manila folder to Ash and he leafed through the newspaper clippings it contained. Each of the papers—all reputable—had jumped on the story.

Before Ash could speak again, Reyna stood and said forcefully, "Both of you need to leave, _now."_ They were both at a loss for words. It had only been a day since the fight with the empousai, and the story was already receiving _national_ attention. Annabeth cleared her throat and said, "We have to get to Camp Half-Blood" Suddenly Ash felt the familiar natural energy pulse through him. It was as if his nerves were ignited; he could feel the presence of every plant, the thrum of each creature's heart, and how each organic being was interconnected. He intuitively knew that the magic encompassed in this energy allowed one to transport oneself through the trees—granted they weren't tied to a dread. This trance was broken by Annabeth and Reyna—a heated argument was developing between the two over how they would inconspicuously get to Camp Half-Blood. "Hey!" He yelled, "I know how we can get out of here. Fast. And Secretly."

* * *

Ash and Annabeth stood in front of the large oak in the center of the _Piazza di Flora_ , the local park. Residents of New Rome were enjoying the beautiful weather. Children chased butterflies on the immaculate green lawn while their parents watched from under the shade of the large marble pavilions. The pristine park was decorated with small ivory statues of the goddess, Flora. A park ranger watered the beds of flowers that lined the park's walkways, paying no attention to the visitors. "Are you sure this is going to work?", Annabeth asked nervously. Ash sighed. On the way over, Annabeth had been incessantly asking questions about what she called "tree travel". He repeatedly assured her that her description of Camp Half-Blood could get them to the forest (or pretty close, at least), and he just needed to focus. He could see that Annabeth wasn't convinced, and took her hands."Listen, I need you to place an insane amount of trust in me for ten seconds. Picture the Camp. Your home." He let go of one her hands, and explained that they would need a running start. He saw the corners of Annabeth's mouth tug into a frown, undoubtedly thinking of running headfirst into a tree and looking like an imbecile.

Instead of slamming into a tree trunk as they barreled into the great oak, they passed through almost effortlessly. Ash could feel the matter linger on their skin as they passed through it, but it was able to be bent and manipulated like a strange fluid. The moment they passed through the tree, he knew he had done this many times before. He could see all of the places the tree could possibly drop them, but was reminded by Annabeth's hand slowly cutting off his circulation that he needed to devote his attention solely to Camp Half-Blood.

It wasn't a soft landing; he and Annabeth had practically been spat out by the oak on the other side. While Ash struggled to steady himself and abate his double vision, Annabeth was already up. She paced around the clearing they'd appeared in, stopping to look at an engraving on a tree that read: _S.B. + C.B._ She closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet summer air deeply. A wide green spread across her face and she said through uncharacteristically bubbly laughter, "You did it! We made it home."

Annabeth quickly found a walking path and Ash habitually followed. Soon, they emerged from the forest to face Camp Half-Blood. It was exactly how Annabeth described it: Wonderfully unique cabins arranged in a concentric "U". On the inner "U" he saw a small cabin that initially looked white, but upon a second glance shone silver. The doorway was engraved elaborately in dark wood with deer and hooded huntresses. Grimacing, Ash whispered to himself, "Artemis". He could smell the salt of Long Island Sound mixed with the smell of the strawberry fields. A large farmhouse was at the entrance of the camp, which rested upon a small hill overlooking a lone pine tree and a rather desolate country road. They quickly reached the farmhouse, and stood on the veranda that wrapped around the home. Annabeth reached for the door, but faltered. With her back turned to Ash, she mumbled under her breath, "Here we go."


	5. V Hope

Hope and Rachel sat outside the round meeting table in the big house of Camp Half-Blood. Chiron had called an emergency meeting of all the cabin leaders to discuss the incident in California involving Annabeth Chase and their hero. _Ash,_ Hope corrected herself. She recalled Rachel reminding her earlier, in a slightly miffed tone _, "He has a name, you know"._ Now Rachel laughed under her breath, "Told you he'd be easy to find." Hope snapped, "Quiet" even though she was a bit intrigued as to how quickly Ash had turned up.

"We need to strengthen our borders!" exclaimed Nick, the leader of the Circe cabin. Clarisse, head of the Ares cabin scoffed, "And lay low like cowards? You've got to be kidding me!" The two teenagers continued to bicker back and forth unrelentingly. The room was beginning to swell with noise; each half-blood was speaking over one another, frantically trying to propose the next course of action. The satyrs futilely attempted to appease the demigods' frayed nerves by blowing on their reed pipes, but only succeeded in adding to the cacophony.

Finally Chiron, the camp director, called for order. No one had realized that while they were arguing he had risen out of his wheelchair and now stood in his full form, a centaur. He stomped his hoof on the floor and a weary silence fell over the room as everyone realized that their usually sage and easy-going director was extremely agitated. In an exasperated tone, he announced, "In light of recent events, I've made the decision to suspend quests for the time being." Chiron was met with a collective groan. Rachel glanced at Hope uneasily, unsure if she should speak up. Hope met her look with a slight shake of her head. Jason Grace, who'd been silent for most of the meeting, straightened his glasses and said, "The mist doesn't just _disappear_. We can't just sit around; we need to find out what's causing it." Hope narrowed her eyes at him; she didn't need Camp Half-Blood—much less one of "the seven" interfering with their quest. They attracted way too much attention; with the mist dissipating it would be as if they had a neon sign hanging over their heads that read: 'Demigod Buffet, All You Can Eat!' Disregarding Hope's gesture, Rachel stood. "It's nothing; it's just part of the natural cycle," she continued, "Just like there are fluctuations in the Earth's magnetic field, there are fluctuations in the mist. It explains those reports of, like, UFOs and Bigfoot." Rachel added hurriedly, "All of this will blow over once some celebrity has a baby and names it after a fruit." She looked around the room and saw that almost everyone seemed moderately convinced—almost. She came to look at Helen, head of the Aletheia cabin. The young girl had a bemused expressed on her face. Her slate-gray eyes stared unflinchingly at Rachel, her mouth set in a hard line. Unfortunately Althea, goddess of truth, had blessed the girl with an uncanny ability to tell a truth from a lie. "She's lying," Helen said bluntly. Everyone stared expectantly at Rachel, waiting for a response. Suddenly the front door of the house swung open. She let out a sigh of relief and silently thanked the gods for the distraction. This distraction, however, was none other than Annabeth Chase and Ash. Hope shot her a severe look that said, _don't even say it,_ and Rachel fought to suppress her growing grin. Annabeth let out a deep sigh, while Ash scanned the room quickly. He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Hope. She took a strange pleasure in watching his beautiful expression change into a combination of confusion, and frustration. She mouthed to him, _I'd like to see you try._ He furrowed his brow and cast his pale eyes to the ground, seemingly lost in thought. Rachel eyed Hope disapprovingly and turned her attention to Annabeth who ordered, "Everyone out. We need to speak to Chiron. Alone." Everyone shifted in their chairs uncomfortably until Annabeth repeated, more forcefully, "Everyone Out!" As they grudgingly filed out of the room, Hope caught sight of Annabeth's friends, Frank, Hazel, Jason and Piper. She smiled inwardly when she saw that they all shared the same bewildered expression.


	6. VI Ash

Ash stormed out of the claustrophobic house, determined to find the mysterious girl he'd somehow seen before. He and Annabeth's meeting with Chiron had been unproductive. Chiron had insisted that they remain inside the camp's borders until the situation, but he knew in his gut they didn't have the time to wait around. It had unhinged him a little more when she started to _agree_ with him.

He picked up his pace, blocking out Annabeth's distant calls from the front porch. He knew exactly where the girl would be waiting for him. Ash stalked toward the Artemis cabin, and was validated when he saw two girls lounging comfortably under its shade. A large bunch of strawberries and a brown paper bag of sugar poked out of a backpack propped against the wall. One girl wore ratty jeans and a faded green t-shirt that advertised the Hoover Dam and her fiery red hair was balled into a messy bun. Beside her sat the girl he was looking for, the one he recognized. She leaned against the cabin, lazily sucking the sugar off of the strawberries. She was dressed in a flowing black sundress and wore a crown of ebony curls. She looked so out of place; a dark specter in the intense sun of midday. The girl looked up at Ash, who towered over her, and smiled, "Well, I guess you want some answers."

He frowned, and the girl with the red hair laughed, "Don't be such a downer! Sit." Ash reluctantly sat down, and the red headed-girl held out her hand, "Rachel Dare, Oracle." The dark haired girl nodded in his direction and said, "I'm Hope." He wasted no time with cordiality. "You brought me here," Ash said. Hope shrugged."Because the mist is disappearing" he continued, his voice laced with frustration. Hope shook her head quickly, " _No_. Not because it _is_ , because you can stop it. Eradicate the problem at its roots." A blank look passed over Ash's face, and she elaborated. "They call themselves, 'The Light' .They're committed to restoring 'natural order' by exposing the world for what it really is. Humans, monsters, gods…all out in the open." Thunder boomed in the distance and Rachel shuddered a little. Ash rubbed his wrists nervously and asked, "How are they doing it?" Hope replied, "We don't know how they're doing it, but we know _who_ is." Ash asked suspiciously, "Why do you expect me to help you?" Hope smiled slightly, as if it were a secret. "I _know_ you. I know who you are, what you are. You're not a bad person. Now is your chance to prove it to everyone else." When Ash's frown deepened, Rachel added, "You're the only one who can stop their leader, pretty boy. Get rid of the leader, the followers scatter like roaches." They stared at each other tensely, until Hope spoke again, "Their leader is strong, but we've seen what you can do Ash. The whole country has. " He cleared his throat. "You want me to kill him? I thought we're supposed to hold hands and sing _kumbaya_ ", Ash said sarcastically. Rachel's usual joking demeanor had vanished, and she replied, "The real world isn't Camp Half-Blood." Ash thought of the restaurant. He remembered the customers' faces as they were frozen in fear, having seen what was impossible. He knew from experience that their fear would soon turn to aggression. He nodded and thought to himself, _Maybe the world isn't ready to truly see itself._

* * *

The sun was dipping below the horizon, and the horn sounded for dinner. Ash stood outside the dining pavilion as each cabin flocked to their respective tables. Nymphs and satyrs swept around the area, serving heaping plates of braised pork shank, mashed potatoes and green beans. One by one each half-blood scooped a portion of their plate into the blazing fire in the center, honoring their Olympian parentage. He watched as their cups were filled, as well as their bellies. He felt an ache in his stomach, and was reminded that he hadn't eaten since the day before. Ash knew that dining with the campers meant that he would be obligated to offer part of his meal to his mother. He glanced around and smirked. There was no table to sit at, anyway. Ash sighed and turned to leave when he saw Annabeth leading a hoard of equally tan, blonde and athletic kids to the pavilion. She fell out of line and walked up to him. He greeted her with a nod of his head. "Hey, you're not getting something to eat?" she asked. Ash smiled," I'll just meet you after festivities…see you later, Chase." She waved goodbye to him and turned to join her brothers and sisters. He wandered away, and eventually came to the strawberry fields. He sat among the strawberry bushes, nibbling on the berries and listening to the sounds of laughter emanating from the dining pavilion.

* * *

Later in the evening, he heard a rustle in the darkness and looked up to see Annabeth making her way towards him. She sat next to him and began to trace circles in the dirt with her finger. "You're leaving soon.", she said with certainty. He sighed, "Yes, and I want you to come with me." She stopped tracing the circles and looked up at him. She had the strangest look in her eyes; a mixture of wonder, hatred, and something else Ash couldn't quite put his finger on. "Why do you trust me?", she asked, breaking her stare and to look at the plume of smoke from the camp's bonfire in the distance. Ash contemplated her seemingly simple question. "You're a good fighter, you can think on your feet, you—" Annabeth interrupted, "Nope. Try again." He flashed Annabeth an annoyed glance. " I don't believe in coincidences, Annabeth. For some reason we met, and we're here now, so we might as well stick together until we find out why." Annabeth nodded, but she still wore the peculiar expression . Ash asked, "Do you trust me?" Annabeth retorted, "How can I trust someone I don't even know?" He stood up, and held out his hand. "That's the thing. You can't. But I'm asking you to make an exception,Chase." Annabeth nodded again and took his hand. As she turned to walk away, Ash called after her, "We meet before dawn at the pine!"

He added, too quietly for Annabeth to hear, "I'll understand if you don't come." But he knew that he wouldn't.


	7. VII Ash

"So, we're going to New Orleans to stop these people who call themselves 'the Light'?" Ash Annabeth and Hope sat in a private jet, courtesy of Rachel Dare, who had decided to stay behind. 'What would camp be without and oracle?',she told them. He knew she hadn't meant to imply that they were disposable, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. "Yeah, that's the plan; kill the leader, kill the movement." Annabeth frowned when Ash said, 'kill' . He hoped he wasn't dealing with a pacifistic daughter of Athena—a walking paradox. He changed the subject. "Tell me about Percy Jackson." Annabeth's let out an amused laugh."You mean to tell me you don't know the famous hero Percy Jackson? The chosen one? One of the Seven?" He rolled his eyes. "Tell me how _you_ know him Chase. You were really tense when they mentioned him in New Rome." Annabeth's smile quickly fell, and her mouth set into a hard line."He's my boyfriend. We planned to go to college together in the fall. We had a...scare, and he left to 'deal with it'. I guess this is just my way of 'dealing with it '"Ash could tell from the bitterness in her voice that it still hurt. When he touched her hand, she pulled away and quickly said, "Don't worry, I'm focused." They slipped into their comfortable silence until the plane took off. Finally, Annabeth sniffed, then asked, "What did you mean when you said you got into 'a lot of trouble'?" He lied, "Oh you know, I got into a lot of fights, never really excelled in school." She turned uncomfortably in her seat to face him,"Tell me the truth. I know you meant much more than that." Nothing got past this girl. He had to. He had to tell her about Selena. Ash took a deep breath. "Annabeth," he said carefully,"You have to promise that you won't pass judgement until you've heard my entire story. Swear on the River Styx." They both felt the gravity of his words. Annabeth nodded slowly."I do. I, Annabeth Chase, swear not to pass judgment on you until I've heard your entire story. "

* * *

"You have to understand, I was so, so angry. Kronos was like a parasite, he loved your my for the Olympians, my mother— it only made him stronger. Soon I wasn't sure If it was me doing these things or Kronos pushing me, speaking into my ear. I'd like to think it wasn't really me, that I was being brainwashed and used. It makes everything so much more palatable."

Ash stopped himself. He couldn't bear to look at Annabeth's reaction. He continued.

"I found this sense of belonging, of feeling needed. And as sick as it was, I'd rather have died than lose it. But everything changed with Selena."

His heart ached just thinking about her , and he hated himself all over task was simple, acquire a spy inside of Camp Half Blood. Selena was a easy target. She was newly heartbroken and angry-she'd just lost her boyfriend.

"Selena fell for me so quickly—she was hurting, and I could always make her forget, at least for a little bit. In a way, I found comfort in her too. She made me...peaceful. Eventually I persuaded her to join our cause,spy for us, and she agreed. It was almost seamless, but I started to see the toll it took on her. She was a beautiful person caught in an ugliness I pulled her into. I should have stopped it I should have—"

Ash's words caught in his throat.

"Towards the end, I could see her loyalty wavering. And I knew Kronos would sense it, and kill her. I told her to run, disappear until it was over."

Ash touched his lips, thinking of the last time he'd seen her. She'd kissed him, and smiled sadly, 'Running's not in my nature,love.'

"I don't know if we were ever really _i_ n love, but I _do_ know that I loved her."

He finally looked at Annabeth. She was crying so, so silently. She turned away to look out the window without another word. He didn't tell her that Kronos found out he'd let her get away. He didn't tell her that Kronos had slashed him with his cursed blade as punishment. He didn't tell her about the blood and the horrible pain that lasted for months as he healed. Not knowing if he was alive, but praying for death. It did not matter, it wouldn't change anything. Ash absentmindedly touched unnatural silvery scar that ran from his left shoulder down to his right hip. He deserved it.

He closed his eyes,wanting to vanish.


	8. VIII Hope

The clouds made Hope think of her mother.

She'd never been on a plane, and although she was terrified initially, she found a sense of wonder in the shapes the clouds made. They constantly changed form—at first billowing and folding like enormous sheets,then transforming into misshapen profiles of sleeping giants. She imagined that her mother was one of those giants .In her own way, Claire Okoye _was_ a giant. Although her mother only stood at 5'3'', her personality could fill up any room. She used to cry that she hadn't inherited her mother's warm brown eyes or her easy smile;when she looked in the mirror, all she saw was her father. Eyes black as night and a severe beauty. Looking back, it only seemed appropriate that a son of Night would want to rob her of a light in her life. _Sleep sickness_ , they called it. But Hope knew that the reason her mother suffered was because of the love of her father, Thanatos. The tremors,headaches, the long episodes of sleep, were all affects of Thanatos pulling Hope's mother to him like a magnet. In the last days, when she started to lose her sanity, she would cry to Hope, "I must see my true love!"

When her mother died, Hope wanted to scream and curse the gods. She wanted to run until her lungs were out of breath and her feet were bloody nubs. After her mother was gone, Hope was actually thankful for the visions. The visions of Ash, and all the pain he'd endured, and how his hatred almost destroyed him. She still remembered how she found him in New York—abandoned, blood pouring out of the huge gash in his chest. His handsome face contorted in pain, his tormented screams chilling her to the bone. When she'd touched him, he ceased screaming and choked out, an odd serenity in his voice, "You can't save me". It scared her. She could sense that he wanted to die, but knew that he wouldn't. She left him there almost as quickly as she'd come. She thought that meeting Ash only served as a warning not to let her pain control her. She certainly hadn't anticipated needing him almost two years later, and was relieved that Ash didn't even seem to remember their first meeting.

Hope tried to find comfort in the clouds again, but couldn't.


	9. IX Ash

"I forgive you." Annabeth said quietly.

She and Ash hadn't spoken a word to each other since the airport. Ash was at a loss for words. All he could manage was,"Thank you." Annabeth didn't answer. They both continued to follow Hope through the city. She moved quickly through the streets, as If she walked this path thousands of times. 'I need a place to scry', she'd said. Ash had asked what scrying was, and why she couldn't just immediately see where they needed to go, but was silenced by the deadly look he received from the psychic. They stopped abruptly. "Here," Hope breathed, slightly winded. Ash thought to himself, _Well she definitely chose the creepiest place._ The group stood in front of a graveyard. The yellowed field was congested with mausoleums and the raised stone tombs that marked each grave. They passed through the rusted gates and came to sit in front of a large statue of a moss-covered weeping angel. Hope sat crossed-legged in front of the statue and rummaged through her backpack. She pulled out a small wooden bowl and flask and placed them each on the ground. Ash cleared his throat, "Why are we in a graveyard?" Hope explained, "There's a lot of energy here. It'll make it easier to _see._ " He opened his mouth to ask another question, but was immediately hushed. He glanced over to Annabeth, who shared his expression of worry and curiosity. They stood in complete silence and watched as she poured the dark liquid from the flask into the bowl, and set it down until the liquid's surface was completely breathed deeply and stared intently into the surface, her eyes becoming heavy lidded. Ash felt a familiarity to her serene expression; it was as if she was the chaotic beauty in his dream again, beckoning him to act. Suddenly she stiffened, her eyes widening, her mouthing agape. Panic was beginning to well in Ash's throat and he started toward Hope to help her, but was caught by Annabeth. He quickly jerked away and moved closer to Hope, who'd begun to gasp for air as if she was being suffocated. Annabeth didn't try to stop him again; instead she warned,"You shouldn't interfere. Let her see."


	10. X Hope

Hope stood in a neatly manicured plaza and watched as tourists milled around her, even passed _through her_ to gape at the formidable structure that sat at its center. There were three huge buildings, however, the two that stood on the right and left seemed modest compared to the one that stood in the center. It was compromised of three cream-colored towers topped with magnificent steepled roofs that had become tinted green with time. The scene was so vivid, so _real_ , that she would have forgotten it was vision if there hadn't been the absence of sensation. She didn't feel the stifling heat the tourists felt as they fanned themselves, or hear the frantic squeals of children as they chased each other across the lawn. _It's a church_ , she thought to turned every which way, trying to discover the essential detail that would reveal why she'd been shown this place. Hope stopped when she saw a flash a silver blonde hair pass behind a statue of a man mounted on his horse. She broke into a light jog, not even flinching when she passed through the unaware tourists. She followed the person as they weaved through beeping cars and disgruntled pedestrians. Finally the person stopped in a dark alleyway, ran a hand through their silvery hair and turned in Mara's direction. The young woman's face was incredibly angular, and was only heightened by the way the shadows of the alley caught her face. Her catlike eyes flicked around the alley, as if she was expecting someone. Her beauty wasn't subtle, it was stark and dangerous and mesmerizing. She wasn't a creature one gently loved— no, she was meant to be marveled at, to be feared. Then, without warning, her faced transformed. Her features softened, boasting luscious dark hair and solemn brown eyes. The woman that now stood in front of her spoke a single word: "Stop."

* * *

Hope blinked rapidly. She was once again in the graveyard with the group, except something was different. Ash crouched next to her, gripping her shoulder tightly, his face frozen in shock. "I saw," he said. Hope's expression hardened. "You _intruded._ " She shrugged off his hand and gingerly gathered her things, trying her best to mask how drained she felt. Her head throbbed and her muscles ached as she carefully poured the dark liquid from her bowl back into the flask. She tossed her things back into the backpack, slung it over her shoulder and began to walk toward Annabeth, who already stood at the graveyard's gate. She called out to her, " St. Louis' Cathedral. That's where we have to go." Ash still hung back, staring at Hope unflinchingly. She stopped.

He ran his hand through his dark curls and frowned. "That woman… I—" but he didn't finish his thought. He simply shook his head and turned to walk toward the graveyard's gate.


	11. XI Ash, Hope

Ash hung back with Hope, the tension between them growing. "Hope, we need to talk about this." She'd avoided looking at him, her eyes were trained on the ground. She snapped, "There's nothing to talk about." Ash's chest tightened with frustration and he replied sharply, "So you'd just let us walk into a trap, If I hadn't seen too," he snapped his fingers, "and go back to Camp and some other _demigod_ to do your _quest."_ The venom in his words at 'demigod' and 'quest' stunned both she and Ash. He swallowed,about to apologize, when Hope said quietly,"This is the only lead we have Ash, we don't have a choice."

"We're here," Annabeth said, finally lowering the map she had her face buried in the entire time. He hated it, but Hope was right. They didn't have the time to find a safer option. _Safer,_ he thought to himself,grimacing . _Was there such thing as being safe when you were a demigod?_ The group stood awkwardly in front of the imposing cathedral as slightly annoyed tourists shuffled around them. Annabeth arched her neck toward the steeples and frowned. "That's weird."

"What is it?" Hope asked. Annabeth replied, "This building isn't supposed to have gargoyles. Gargoyles are usually found on Medieval cathedrals; this one was built in the 1800s." Ash remarked sarcastically, "Annabeth, your _nerd_ is showing." Suddenly, he was hit with the rancid, sulfurous smell he remembered from the Waffle Hut. "Wait," he said, "you're right." Instinctively,he drew his bow and pointed it at the statues, just as they turned to face him directly. The gargoyles' eyes flashed to life, their stony scales rippling with anticipation. His eyes shot to Annabeth, who'd already drawn her dagger. She was ready for a fight. Ash's mind sped; he barked at Hope, "Just get the mortals out of the way!" and let his first arrow fly. He watched as it hit a swooping gargoyle, reducing the monster to a pile of gravel.

Ash exhaled sharply.

"We've got this."

* * *

It was mesmerizing watching Ash fight. Hope had always known archers to be relatively stationary fighters, but Ash was different. His style of fighting resembled dancing more than anything else, and Hope could see the ease and pleasure he found in skillfully dodging blows and releasing arrows. _His agility and grace could challenge Artemis herself,_ she thought _._ She should have been indignant that Ash hadn't even _expected_ her to fight with them; instead she was grateful. It wasn't her fatigue from the vision that made her reluctant to fight,it was battle itself. She hated the feel of a hilt in her palm, the blood and violence that ensued. In every glint of Annabeth's dagger and every _swoosh_ of Ash's arrow, Hope was reminded of war _._ She frowned.

"Hope!" Annabeth yelled, pausing from fighting gargoyles to slap tourists' phones out of their hands, " A little help here?" Hope nodded, and began to usher the shocked civilians away from the scene. Hope thought she was nearly finished, when she saw a teenager standing dangerously close to Ash, Annabeth and the swarm of gargoyles. Her platinum hair fell beautifully over her shoulder , and she wore a lavender sundress that made her pale skin nearly translucent. Expensive looking sunglasses covered her face. Hope placed her hand on the shoulder of the girl, ready to pull her away from the fight. "I'm sorry we have to evacuate the area—" She was interrupted by the her amused glance. She flashed a brilliant smile and drawled, " But sweetheart, I'm here for the show." She dropped her hand limply at a sudden realization. _It was the her,from the vision._ She held out her hand, but Hope didn't take it. She shook her head, a lazy grin spreading across her face. "I'm Rowan. I'm here because I know who you're looking for, and they want to meet y'all… Show you a little southern hospitality." She pulled out a cream-colored business card and handed it to Hope. The front read: Rowan O _., Business Inquiries._ On the back was scribbled an address: 1600 Lafayette Street. Hope made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. She spat, "What makes you think we'll take you up on that offer?" She shrugged, and waved her hand toward Ash and Annabeth, causing the remaining gargoyles to cease swooping and ascend once again to their perches on the cathedral. Rowan removed her sunglasses, revealing eyes that glinted like jewels."Come or don't come. But sooner or later you're going to need a place to hide from the mortals and their cameras." She swiveled on her heel and strolled away, acting as of nothing had happened.

It wasn't the girl's complete awareness of their quest that frightened Hope. It was her pale yellow eyes _. Ash's eyes,_ she thought. However, her stare lacked the warmth it should have held and resembled that of a wolf's, cold and calculating.


	12. XII Ash, Hope

"Eat up, kids." Annabeth tossed an array of cheeseburgers, fries and colas on the worn wooden table of the motel room. Ash stopped massaging his aching shoulder to snatch a cheeseburger, hastily sinking his teeth into it and groaning contentedly. "It's been so long since I've had one of these," He said between bites. Annabeth teased, "They didn't have burgers in Never-Neverland, or wherever you came from?" He replied dryly, " we did have better jokes." Annabeth rolled her eyes and took a fry from the grease-soaked bag, plopping down on the bed next to Hope , who was turning the small business card in her hands. "So are you gonna tell us who that girl was?" Hope stopped turning the card and looked up. "I think she was a member of the Light. She invited us to meet them." A silence fell over the group. Finally, Ash cleared his throat. "I think we should go." Annabeth stood up and shook her head. "No. We don't know enough." Ash cut in slightly miffed, "Let me show you guys something." He shared a look with Hope; ever since the vision in the graveyard, he'd had a renewed sense of urgency about the quest. Ash knew that they were running out of time; It was impossible to contrive the elaborate plan of attack that Annabeth wanted. He put down is burger and stalked over to the remote that sat on the nightstand. He turned on the TV, stopping on a channel that was airing the 11 o'clock news. The news showed a photo of Annabeth standing in front of a generic blue background, unsmiling. It was her drivers license photo. Underneath the photo read: "Daughter of Classics professor Identified in string of terror Incidents." His eyes flicked to Annabeth, who opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Silently, Annabeth walked over to her backpack, pulled out a small baggie of drachma and a small compact mirror , and mumbled, almost to herself, "I need to make a call." She slipped out of the grimy motel room without another word.

* * *

"Well, now what?", Ash asked. It was unsettling to see such a cool and measured daughter of Athena leave in such a huff. _I pray to gods she didn't call Camp._

Hope smiled unconvincingly and patted the spot beside her. He joined her on the bed, and they sat in silence until Hope spewed out, "We've met before, before all of this. You don't remember but…" she trailed off. _Why had she said that?_ He wouldn't understand, he'd just think that she was an insane seer. Instead of leaving—or worse—accusing her of lying, he asked, his voice careful, "How was I then?"

"In pain," she replied. Hope reached over and tugged up the edge of his shirt, placing her hand on his abdomen and knowingly touched the spot where his scar would be. She met his stare and immediately regretted it. His champagne colored eyes traced her up and down,focusing on every detail until he took her hand and held it against his face. " _I remember this_." She pulled away. "I don't think we should be rash," she stammered. Hope didn't think Ash knew whether she was referring to the quest, or what had almost happened between them. She didn't really know herself. She clarified,"We should really think up a plan on how to approach them." Ash scoffed, "Approach them? Hope, If I could just get a clean shot—" She shook her head, "Ash, you don't even know who to shoot, much less where." His mouth hardened into a line and a darkness passed over his face. "It's the girl from the church, isn't it," he said. Hope's refusal to answer only confirmed his suspicion, and he nodded. "We'll wait, but only if we carry this out _my_ way." Hope laughed, "Sure, If you can get Annabeth to agree to that." They sat in tense silence, and Ash looked like he wanted to say something more, but stopped himself. It looked like she was going to have to address the proverbial elephant in the room. "I'm sorry I left you," she spoke quietly, as If the world was listening in. Perhaps it was. He took her hand again, and slowly ran his fingers over the palm. With every point of contact, she felt an immense energy pass between them. It was exciting and new; she could feel the chaos bubbling beneath his surface,just as he felt hers. "I thought you were an angel of death," he smiled slightly, like it was a secret only they shared, "come to give me mercy."

 _You can't save me._ His words suddenly echoed in her mind, and she knew what they really meant. Ash hadn't been talking about his life—he'd been talking about his soul. She was so, so sorry. Sorry she couldn't stop his pain. Sorry she couldn't give him the mercy he'd so desperately wanted. Before she could second guess herself, Hope touched her lips to his. Ash surprised her by kissing her slowly and sweetly.

"Hope." To others it was simply a word, but to her it was an invocation. She laid back, the cheap comforter scratching her skin and felt Ash slowly brush his lips along her collarbone. He met her gaze once again, uncertainty in his eyes. She answered his hesitancy by slowly tugging up the edges of his t-shirt and running her hands along every curvature, sinew, scar . Ash responded by tracing his fingers slowly up the small of her back and unclasping her bra. In this precious, fleeting moment, they made a silent agreement. Ash and Hope agreed to momentarily forget about the ubiquitous danger of simply _being_ a demigod, the pain of the past, and the worry about what tomorrow would bring. They were young, and sooner than they thought they would be old, then they would return to the ground. Now, they peeled off the rest of their clothing surrendered themselves to each other.

* * *

She was still only inches away, smiling at him flirtatiously. He brushed his lips against hers, and said, "Get some sleep." Hope nodded sleepily and dressed herself. She was curled up on the bed and snoring softly in an instant. All Ash could think about was the red of strawberries and how it matched the flush of Hope's face, the way the dewy air stuck to her skin and how soft her lips were…he was interrupted by the creak of the door. Annabeth entered. Ash struggled to compose himself;he tried in vain to hide the color of his own cheeks and wipe the nervous sweat off his brow. "Get some rest, Chase. I'll take first watch, and we'll come up with a plan tomorrow," he said in a steady voice. Annabeth nodded wearily, and plopped down on the adjacent twin bed. As soon Annabeth was soundly asleep as well, Ash reached into his pocket and pulled out two objects.

The first was a small obsidian knife—Hopes's knife. He felt it in her pocket and the kleptomaniac in him couldn't help but swipe it. Ash told himself it could be useful to him later, but he knew better. It would be a memento, to remind him that she was _real_. This girl who'd seemed like a beautiful specter for the entire quest had become almost frighteningly real to him.

The second thing Ash held in his hands was the creme colored card that read: 1600 Lafayette Street. He ran his hand through his hair and cursed himself for lying to Hope. Ash stood and broke into a light jog away from the motel, praying to the gods that his friends would forgive him for what he was about to do.


	13. XIII

She saw Ash, crumpled on the ground. Blood bloomed underneath his shirt like a deadly rose. His face contorted his pain as he choked out panicked gasps and clawed at the air. Hope knelt beside him and cupped his face in her hands. His eyes moved frantically back and forth, as if he was searching for something, _anything_ in Hope that said he was going to be okay. Tears slid down her face shook her head. It one of her _gifts,_ her father had told her. She could feel Ash's life force slowly tugging away. Slowly, his eyes ceased moving, and he lay limp, staring into nothingness. Hope whipped around to see that the same woman she'd met in the alley stood there sadly. She sauntered toward Hope to press her hand to her forehead again, and Hope was inundated with pain. Ash _'s pain,_ she noted. She could feel all of the panic, hopelessness and agony of his death. _His death that hasn't even happened yet._ Hope let out a guttural scream before she found her self in the motel room once again. "Annabeth!" Hope yelled. Annabeth moaned groggily and turned over. Hope looked down at her hands. They were shaking. Without thinking, Hope grabbed the tv remote off of the nightstand and chucked it at the sleeping girl. Annabeth woke immediately, wearing a deadly look on her face, until she saw Hope's distress. "What's going on?" she asked softly. Hope replied:

"Ash is gone."

* * *

Waiting was always the hardest part. Although he knew many things, Ash never learned the meticulous patience required of a master bowman. He watched the warmly lit window of the 3-story apartment in such silence that not even his breath was heard. Concealed in the shadows,with his bow drawn taught, Ash could easily have been mistaken for an oddly placed statue. Suddenly, he saw a figure pass into the window. Before he could release his arrow, a voice rang out. _'Stop'. Ash l_ ooked around, panicked. He returned his focus to the window to find the figure facing forward this time, looking directly at the spot where he perched. ' _This isn't what I had in mind when I said I'd like to meet you,'_ the voice laughed dryly. Ash hated this feeling; the feeling of someone invading his mind, speaking over his own thoughts. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he thought of Kronos' metallic voice that still gave him nightmares. "Get out of my head!"he yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls of the buildings and traveling down the desolate street. ' _Fine, but please, come in.'_ The voice added quietly, perhaps releasing their connection, _'I'm not your enemy, 's just us here—I wanted to speak to you myself'._ He remembered the last time someone told him they 'weren't the enemy'. Ash said to himself acerbically, "Luke Castellan." The person no longer stood in the window,making Ash wish he'd taken the shot.

* * *

"Do you want any sugar with your tea?" she asked. Ash shook his head silently. He sat across from Rowan in a parlor lavishly decorated with antique furniture. A fire roared in a fireplace, despite the muggy summer air. Rowan shrugged and added two sugar cubes to her own tea, reveling in the clink of the spoon against the porcelain cup. Rowan smiled easily, her eyes glinting like a feline. "Well, before you assassinate me— or whatever you intended to do—I'd like to talk about what all of this is," she said, gesturing to the room. Ash replied, "I doubt anything at this point would change my mind." She set her tea down loudly and draped her arms over her crossed legs. "Would if I told you we were siblings?Twins, even?" Ash tried to cover his shock, but knew he failed when Rowan let out a sickly sweet laugh. "What? The witch didn't tell you?" She winked,"We both have mother's eyes, you know."

"You're lying," Ash spat, although he didn't even believe his own words. It seemed impossible that he could have a sister. Just as impossible as being born to a virgin goddess. just shook her head,"It's how I 'spoke' to you. We're connected whether you like it or not. " She took a long sip of her tea before continuing, "We've been given a chance to restore harmony—with the mist gone we can return the world to its natural glory. The mortals will be in their place, as well as the demigods and olympians…Everything will be as it should." _And where does that leave us?_ The bastard children of Artemis wouldn't be able to hide from the Olympians' wrath once the mist was gone—Ash was surprised their mother hadn't come to correct her mistake. _Two Mistakes, now,_ he thought to himself. He spoke, his voice low, "You want chaos," the tips of his fingers hummed with energy. "and I can't let that happen." He stared at Rowan, and watched her grasp the weight of his words. "I see," she said sharply, "maybe you need more time to think about this, _brother_." Suddenly Ash saw the glint of something metal tucked at Rowan's side.

Everything seemed to happen at once. In a flash of light the once civil meeting disintegrated. Although Ash's ears rang, he could hear Rowan's grating cries tear through the room. "YOU BASTARD!" she yelled, clutching her face. His nose was immediately hit wit the rancid smell of burning flesh and polyester. Rowan scrambled for the glinting piece of metal.A gun. A loud, rippling sound sliced through air, simultaneously ripping through Ash's body. He fell to the floor, his vision clouded by the growing smoke.


	14. XIV

Hope watched somberly as they burned the funeral pyre draped in magnificent silver silk. The shining string of beads draped over the fabric seemed to sparkle in the moonlight

it burned. When she and Annabeth arrived at 1600 Lafayette, the regal structure was already up in tried to run into the building. Even though it was already starting to collapse.

Even though she could hear that familiar buzzing—the buzzing that signaled death. Annabeth managed to subdue her,and they fled just as mortal firetrucks were rounding the

corner. 'We can't make another scene,' Annabeth said. It was smart, to disappear before mortals started asking questions, but sometimes Hope resented that Annabeth seemed

to be governed solely by logic. That she could completely abandon emotion, _grief_ , for the sake of tactical genius.

There was a sort of regal beauty in Ash's memorial, yet it still seemed bare. No one had known Ash—no one knew his smile, the mischievous glint in his eyes, the darkness he

struggled with. No one accept she and Annabeth. Not even Rachel could truly know what had transpired between the three. When Hope returned to camp, She'd told them. She

told them that there was a son of Artemis, and possibly a daughter that still lived. They feigned interest and sympathy, but one glaring fact still hung over their heads—they'd

deliberately disobeyed Chiron by leaving Camp _and_ failed their quest. It was even more noticeable that the mist was thinning now; the occasional mortal would approach the Big

House, lured by the waft of the strawberry fields and the "quaintness" of their "Bed and Breakfast". Hope cringed, thinking of the prophecy again:

 ** _Light and Dark, Dark and Light_**

 ** _Few will know the hunter's plight_**

 ** _No child of Rome nor child Greece_**

 ** _Can wake the god who was once deceased_**

 ** _To keep the Light, all that is Good_**

 ** _A choice must be made_**

 ** _Water or blood_**

She slowly walked away from the memorial, not wanting the few campers that remained to see her face contort in choking, ugly sobs.

* * *

Hope was watching the bonfire from afar when she heard footsteps behind her. "I'd rather be alone right now Annabeth." She said. A masculine voice replied,"I think you

mistake me for another," Hope whipped around to see a man clad in black jeans, a black t-shirt, and expensive boots to match. He was lean and lanky—almost a head taller

than she—with copper locks falling to his shoulders. He silently regarded her with icy blue eyes before she exclaimed, "Who are you?!" His mouth twitched into something

between a sneer and a smile; he replied, "I am Loki of Asgard." Hope's mind flooded with questions. She ran her hand through her curls, her fingers catching in the tangles.

"What—" Loki held up his hand authoritatively. "We must stop that… _girl_ from doing the unthinkable." Although Loki spoke with an affected accent, Hope noticed the venom with

which he said, 'girl'. Like it was some sort of slur. He couldn't be talking about Rowan-unless she managed to escape the fire. _And let Ash burn,_ she thought. While she fought

to keep her composure Loki stared right through her, as if he could sense her nervousness and was utterly bored with it. "And what, exactly, is the 'unthinkable'?"

she asked. In a swift step he closed the distance between them and answered lowly, "She must not awaken my brother."

And then he was gone.

* * *

Ash was flooded with memories. Running through the forest, feeling as if he was flying, the smell of Honeysuckle floating through the air. Hope's sadness, and the last

kiss he shared with her. Annabeth's stormy eyes. His silver-haired sister, Rowan, who'd sent a bullet tearing through his abdomen. Smoke filling his lungs, soot

coating his throat. The thunderous sound of the burning mansion crashing down on him. _Gods, I'm dead. This is it. My life is literally flashing before my eyes._ Suddenly he was

aware of the weight of splintered wood and bricks on his chest. Groaning, he forced he way through the rubble and breathed a sigh of relief as he was hit with the smell of

honeysuckle,fresh air, and moonlight. "Ash," He turned to see a woman with chocolate brown hair and warm eyes staring intently at him and immediately recognized her. _Leto,_

he thought. "My Lady, I did not expect to see you here." His own voice sounded foreign. Ash always took on a formal tone when he spoke with her, but never truly noticed it

until now. Lady Leto smiled tightly and replied, "I _am_ the one who healed your injuries." Aside from a few scrapes, he noticed the absence of the seemingly fatal bullet wound,

and lifted his shirt only to discover a small pucker of skin where he'd been shot. Ash dared continued. "I presume you are not here to return me to Delos?" Lady Leto knelt down

and wiped a smudge of soot from his cheek, a strangely human gesture for a goddess."No…but it _is_ time you learned about your father."


End file.
